Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
T hea’s gaze darted to Hawthorne and lingered there long enough that eventually those silver eyes raised to hers, his piercing stare sending a thrill through her.
He folded his arms over his chest, arms that had shown her how to hold a bow, arms that had held her through the night, arms that could have easily lifted her naked from the bath and —
A muscle twitched in his jaw, a dark gleam to his gaze as though he, too, were recalling those moments between them and what they could mean now in the face of the Guild Master’s news.
The Warswords were taking on apprentices…
and they did not look happy. All three warriors surveyed the crowd coldly as whispers broke out across the courtyard.
The reversal in the policy clearly hadn’t been their idea.
But it didn’t matter to Thea. An apprenticeship was on the line.
Like everyone else, she knew next to nothing about the Great Rite of the Warswords, but it only stood to reason that those who apprenticed to one had the best chance of passing the harrowing ritual.
Her mind raced at the possibility. Three years was all she had left.
To become an apprentice could alter the course of her fate, could mean carving her own legend into the realms that much sooner.
She was going to die, yes, but she would die a Warsword’s death. Thea had never wanted anything more in her life.
She tore her gaze away from Hawthorne.
Kipp was wide-eyed. ‘A Warsword’s apprentice. And we can nominate the one we want! Do you —’
Someone nearby snorted. ‘You don’t seriously think you’re in with a chance?’ Lachin jeered.
‘Anything’s possible,’ Kipp shrugged. But then to Thea and Cal he said: ‘Obviously not, doesn’t mean it’s not exciting though.’
He seemed much younger in that moment, but Thea found his optimism infectious.
‘It would be something…’ she murmured, her skin prickling in anticipation.
‘Did you two get on? You and Hawthorne?’ Cal asked, following her gaze. ‘When he escorted you to Hailford? Do you think you’ve gained some favour with him?’
Thea’s face went bright red and she made a poor recovery. ‘Uh… Not exactly —’‘Alchemist.’ Thea turned to find the Warsword himself towering at her side, his jaw set, his powerful frame poised for battle, even now.
‘A word,’ he said.
Thea hated the command in his tone, hated that she was already moving with him, leaving her gobsmacked friends behind. She followed him into the fortress and down an unfamiliar passageway until he pulled her into a hidden alcove.
While Cal and Kipp hadn’t pressed her for information about the journey with the legendary warrior yet, this instance was sure to ignite their curiosities beyond repair.
But all thoughts emptied from her head as Hawthorne leaned against the stone wall and studied her in the same intense way he had when her skin had been bare.
‘Well?’
Thea tried to get control over her racing mind and thundering heart. ‘Well, what?’
‘I’m not the right mentor for you.’ His gaze never left hers.
Whatever she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. ‘I didn’t say you were…’ she replied slowly, putting the pieces together. ‘Did you think after last night I would come begging for a place as your apprentice?’
‘Begging? Not for that, no…’ His dimple showed.
Outraged, Thea’s mouth fell open. ‘You prick. I would never —’
‘What? Beg? ’
Fury blazed in her veins. The audacity of this man was unparalleled. ‘Let’s get one thing clear,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I don’t want you as a mentor. You’re moody, unpredictable and —’
‘And what?’
Thea tried not to let herself get carried away. ‘Infuriating.’
‘That’s not what you were going to say.’
‘I’m not doing this dance.’
‘What dance is that?’
His rosewood soap tickled her nose and the Furies damn him, she almost leaned in.
Steeling herself, she ignored his question.
Instead, she folded her arms, desperate for any semblance of a barrier between them, desperate to forget that he’d seen her naked.
‘So we’re in agreement. I won’t nominate you as my mentor, happy? ’
‘Not even close, Alchemist.’
‘What then?’ she bit back. ‘What would make you happy, Hawthorne?’
A charged silence lingered between them for a beat and Thea gazed upon the Warsword, unable to tame her pounding heart or the pulse of desire between her legs.
He seemed to sense it because, for a moment, his eyes dropped to her mouth.
‘I don’t intend to be a good mentor.’ His words only stoked her fury.
‘You’d rob a talented shieldbearer of the same opportunity you were given?’
He braced an arm against the wall above her and leaned in. ‘I would have been better off.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘I’d be a bad teacher,’ he told her, his face nearing hers. ‘I had a terrible example.’
‘So you’ve said,’ Thea replied coldly. ‘I’ll nominate Elderbrock then.’
‘He’s a good choice.’
Thea glanced down, needing to look anywhere but at him.
Why did she feel like the fool? She had done nothing to be ashamed of, not truly, and yet her stomach roiled, as though she’d lost something she’d never had.
But he’d wanted her too. She’d seen proof of that in the bathhouse.
Even now, the tether of tension between them was taut.
Smoothing down her clothes, Thea composed herself as she met his gaze again. ‘Is that all?’
Something in Hawthorne’s expression softened. ‘Alchemist…’ His voice was low and gentle this time. He reached for her, his large, warm hand closing gently around her arm. ‘Althea…’ he murmured, as though there was so much more to say, but that her name alone captured it all.
Despite the words they’d exchanged, despite the tightness in her chest, Thea’s body betrayed her yet again, and she found herself arching into his touch, his warmth.
He would have made a lousy mentor, he’d made that much clear, but perhaps… Perhaps if she was apprenticed to another Warsword, it could give them the space to explore whatever this thing was between them. Maybe —
A whistle from the courtyard carved through the tension like a hot blade through butter.
Hawthorne sprung back from her, her arm cold where his hand had been.
‘We are in agreement then, Alchemist?’
Thea sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Yes,’ she told him, chest aching as she spoke the words. ‘We’re in agreement.’
To Thea’s surprise, the shieldbearer cohort was where she had left them.
Thankfully, there was no time for Cal and Kipp’s questions.
‘Enough gossiping,’ Esyllt’s commanding tone cut through their chatter. ‘You’ve each been assigned a group, and that group will be led by one of the Warswords. Learn all you can. And don’t piss them off with your whinging. You’re lucky to have them.’
The message was clear: they don’t want to be here . Don’t make it worse. Thea made a point of looking nowhere near Hawthorne.
The weapons master went on to read out names from a crinkled piece of parchment, and Thea hated how relieved she was to find herself with Kipp and Cal in her cohort. To her dismay, Seb and Lachin were as well.
‘You lot are with Torj,’ Esyllt shouted as the shieldbearers sprang into action.
With her friends, Thea pushed her way towards the towering Bear Slayer, his golden hair glinting in the dawn light spilling over the turrets. He eyed them warily.
‘Gods…’ he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Thea was used to disdain by now, so she ignored this and instead took the opportunity to survey the warrior before them more closely.
He didn’t wear his famous war hammer, only a longsword sheathed at his belt.
But that mighty weapon was enough to mark him for what he was.
She’d know the sheen of Naarvian steel anywhere.
‘Get yourselves together,’ Torj called. ‘We’re heading to the Bloodwoods for a training session. It’s time for some ranged weapons practice.’
‘Finally,’ Cal said.
‘If you wipe the floor with Seb, I’d be much obliged,’ Kipp added.
‘I’d pay to see that,’ Thea agreed.
Cal gave a mock bow as they made their way past the gatehouse. ‘Consider it done.’
Kipp turned to Thea next. ‘You going to tell us what all that was about before? Don’t tell us the Hand of Death has already chosen you?’
‘Not even close,’ she said.
The early morning sun barely penetrated the thick canopy of the Bloodwoods and thus, the dense forest was just as cold as the dungeons might have been.
Thea cupped her hands together, trying to blow some warmth into her fingers.
As they walked, she mulled over the Guild Master’s announcement and her mind drifted back to what Hawthorne had told her.
‘There are forces at work we do not understand… Things that threaten the peace the three kingdoms have fought so hard for… It creeps across the lands like a poison… A scourge of sorts, breaking through the Veil.’
Was that why the Warswords were remaining at Thezmarr? Was that why they were now suddenly involved in ‘shaping the warriors of the future’?
‘I feel that the era of peace is once more at an end. Thezmarrians need to be ready.’
Before long, they reached a familiar clearing in the Bloodwoods, but this time, Thea didn’t have to hide in the shadows. This time, Thea was one of the shieldbearers. That small victory was not lost on her.
Someone had already set up and for a second, she pitied the poor sod who’d been up even before the shieldbearers. She’d take clean-up duty in the armoury any day over set-up duty before dawn.
Racks of weapons had been laid out along the edges of the clearing. Spears, longbows, crossbows, throwing stars, slings and quivers of arrows stood waiting for them. Pieces of parchment with thick painted targets had been pinned to the trees.
Thea was just as aggressive as Kipp and Cal in shoving her way to the front of the group so she could see everything up close. This was different to being in the armoury or in a sparring session – she was finally going to wield real steel.